Still My Father
by Hermione's Shadow
Summary: The night before she leaves on her mission, Ziva reflects on what happened on the tarmac and her last 4 years with NCIS. She struggles to understand why she let her father win again.


**Still My Father**

_**A/N: **So originally I wasn't planning to write anything on the season finale, but I couldn't help it. I wrote this because I know what its like to not be able to believe what your father tells you, but still desperately want. However, unlike Ziva, my dad only lies about little things, he isn't the monster that Ziva's dad is. Now if he had done half the things to me that Ziva's dad did to her, I would probably turn my back, but still, you never know. Oh, and I have know idea who Ziva's mother is or what happened to her, I'm just speculating. Anyway, let me know what you think._

_Disclaimer: Believe me, if it were mine Vance would have been the one left behind in an "interrogation" room, not Ziva._

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I don't understand what happened, I don't understand how everything spiraled so far out of control. Mostly, I don't understand myself. The last time I felt this confused was after I shot Ari, and even then was nothing compared to now.

He lied to me again. I should be used to it by now, I should expect it. It shouldn't effect me, not even a little, and yet it does. It still hurts and I still feel betrayed.

I remember four years ago sitting at the top of the stairs listening to Ari as he spoke to Gibbs. I remember how it felt like my world was crashing down around me as I listened because as he spoke, I knew what he said was true to an extent. I had tried to deny it for so long, and I think for a while Ari tried to protect me from the truth. The truth that our father was a manipulative liar. I had always known deep down but just refused to believe it. I had known ever since the first time he promised to come to a dance recital and didn't show up. Every time after was just proof. Of course, my mom shielded me while she was alive. After she died though, I saw more and more, but still I didn't want to believe it. Yet, as I listened to Ari, I couldn't pretend anymore, and couldn't deny it anymore.

When I first came to America and NCIS I was determined I wouldn't let anyone in, I wouldn't allow another person to hurt me like my father had. I had come to America mostly because I needed to get away from him because I knew that if I stayed there I would allow myself to believe his lies again because no matter what, he was still my father and I couldn't bring myself to hate him. No matter how angry I was, and no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't turn off the little part of me that was still his daughter.

Then I came to NCIS and before I even realized what had happened, Gibbs had worked his way in. He had silently made it past my defenses before I even realized there was an intruder. Suddenly, I found myself wishing that my father was more like him. I first time I caught myself thinking that I had been shocked. The next time I felt a little guilty. Yet as the years went on, I couldn't help it. He had the same qualities in him that I used to admire in my own father. He was strong, he demanded respect and everyone gave it to him. Unlike my own father though, people didn't respect him because they were terrified he would have them killed. People respected him because he was an honest, self-sacrificing man who demanded just as much of himself, if not more, as he did of those who worked for him. Even though he would never openly admit it to anyone, well except maybe Abby, he cared about those that worked for him and he would do anything to protect them. It wasn't long before I suddenly realized that I was no longer wishing my father were more like him, I was wishing that he was my father. That first time I made that realization it scared the hell out of me. The little part of me that was still loyal to my father flared up in protest. Then, the Director was killed and Vance was separating our team. I remember going home that night and crying.

When I returned to Mossad I threw myself into my work to distract myself from the pain of leaving my team behind. I had been raised my entire life to not let anyone get close to you because eventually they would die, or disappear, or turn on you. My three years at NCIS had undone all of that. I missed Abby and her craziness. I missed McGee and his computer ramblings. Hell, I even missed, no I especially missed Tony and his movie quotes and tasteless jokes. And I especially missed Gibbs. These people had been more than just my team, they had become my friends, my family.

I still remember the day Gibbs called me when I was in my father's office. After nearly four months of keeping my mask so carefully in place, that one phone call had been enough to let it slip just long enough for my father to begin to realize what had happened. He didn't say anything, he didn't have to. I could hear it in his voice when he ordered me to give him a kiss and I could feel it in his grip when he held my face. He was threatened and asserting his authority and importance.

I remember when I found out I would be returning to NCIS. For the first time in a long time I had been truly happy. Yet a year later, here I was again, back at Mossad, and back under my father's control. I still can't believe I let him win. I can still see the smug look on his face. He doesn't really care about me, he just wanted to prove a point to everyone else, he wanted to win. I want to hate him, I want to yell at him and turn around and go back to America, but I can't bring myself to do.

I think about Tony and my stomach clenches. The words I said to him and to Gibbs about him had been so cruel. I hadn't meant to do it, but I didn't have anyone else to take my anger out on. He had been the easy outlet. No matter how much I blamed my dad, that little annoying part of me refused to allow me to take it out on him. Gibbs was completely out of the question because he was the one person who hadn't lied to me, who hadn't done anything. That made Tony the easy fall guy. I knew deep down that he had been trying to look out for me, but my pride and anger wouldn't let me believe that and now I may never see him again.

I take a deep breath as another tear falls down my cheek. I want to be mad at Gibbs for leaving me here, for choosing Tony instead, but I can't, after all I was doing the same thing to him that my father had done to me. In fact, that was why I had done it wasn't it? That was why I made him choose, so I wouldn't have to. I knew he would choose Tony, not because he liked Tony more but because Tony wasn't the one trying to make him choose, I was. It was the cowardly thing to do, but I couldn't make that choice, because I knew in the end that tiny little piece of me would overrule and I would have chosen to stay here, but I would have never been able to forgive myself. By forcing Gibbs to choose, I was trying to relieve myself of the responsibility, I was trying to make it less painful. I thought that if I made Gibbs choose Tony over me then it wouldn't hurt so bad, that it would make it easier for me to just be angry at him and forget him.

Yeah, some plan. If it was so great than why am I sitting on my bed crying with all the lights out? Why is my anger and resentment directed at my father instead of Gibbs and Tony? Of course I know the answer to that. Its because it is his fault, once again he lied to me and manipulated me and then made me turn my back on my friends, and the people I loved. I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to Abby, Tim, Ducky, and Jimmy. Another quite sob escapes as I realize I will never get another bone crushing hug from Abby. When I think about how far our relationship has come I almost smile, but that urge immediately goes away. How long will it take them to replace me I wonder? I remember how long they held onto the memory of Kate, the agent before me. I doubt the same thing will happen. Kate died protecting her country and protecting Gibbs. I left like a coward. Still, the thought that someone else will be sitting at my desk, the thought that the others will be trusting someone new to have their back leaves a gaping hole in my heart.

I feel my blood boil with anger and rage at my father. I want nothing more than to scream at him and hurt him like he has hurt him. I want nothing more than to slam the door in his face, return to America and cut off all contact with him forever. I want to return to the people who really do care about, but I know that its not going to happen. As much as I blame him for all of this, and as mad at him as I am, there is still that tiny little part of me that is desperately holding onto the idea of him, the memory of what he was like before the veil was removed from my eyes. That little part of me, know matter how hard I try to squash it, remains and it keeps me from hating him completely. No matter how hard I try to get rid of it, how hard I try to hate him completely, that little part still wants to be his little girl, his princess.

As I lie down and attempt to sleep before I begin tomorrow's mission, one last thought crosses my mind. No matter what he does, that little part of me is still there to remind me, to tell me, he's still my father.

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A/N: Me again, just a reminder to please review. Also, I don't believe of single word of what Vance said to Gibbs about Ziva. I think it was a bunch of BS and he is just screwing with the team again. I really hope he leaves the show soon, after all, they don't have a great track record of hanging on to the directors, lol ^_^


End file.
